


Some form of Generosity

by WretchedEscapist



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Anal Sex, Christmas, Consensual, Kissing, M/M, Oneshot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-22 11:17:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/609240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WretchedEscapist/pseuds/WretchedEscapist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack shows up drunk at Pitch's lair to give him a Christmas present; of course Pitch feels as though he should give something in return, even if he denies it has anything to do with 'Christmas'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some form of Generosity

**Author's Note:**

> This was done very quickly in the course of two nights as a Christmas present, so any lack of quality I apologize for in advance. Contains some hardcore smut, and toppy!Bottom Pitch; if you don't know what that means… well you'll have to read to find out I guess. As always, it is entirely consensual.

Thankfully there were indeed parts of the world which did not celebrate Christmas. These were the places Pitch tended to go when he needed somewhere away from home around this particular time of year. One could say he hated the holiday, but no more than he would hate  _any_  day dedicated to his arch nemeses.

It was Christmas and he was lounging within the higher parts of his lair, protected under an ornate sort of balcony from the sunlight streaming in. Here in Venice, far off the coast of the main civilization, all was quite peaceful. There were no sounds, colors or smells of humanity at all to be a bother. It was easy to just forget what day it was; like he did every year.

Sinking lower into the large, black sofa he was reclining on, he sighed softly. Even though it was a lanky couch, he was lankier. His feet rested on the arm at the opposite side with his head partially leaning against the other. He was staring at the ruined ceiling of the balcony above him where an engraved mural was partially obscured by dark mineral deposits.

He stayed like this for a few minutes before looming depression drove him to get up and move elsewhere. The massive cavern all around him was divided every whichway by huge, ornate stone bridges, and eventually he was walking down to one via a very wide black marble staircase.

The fact his Fearlings refused to come up here in broad daylight helped in the fact that, much to his surprise, someone managed to break into his home and sneak up on him.

Well, not so much 'sneak up' as 'soar overhead shouting for his attention'.

"Pitch!" came a familiar voice not too far above him.

The Nightmare King paused in the middle of the stairs to look up, utterly bewildered as none other than Jack Frost came flying over him. In a show of brilliant acrobatics, he gracefully turned head-over-heels in the air before landing lightly on his feet a little ways in front of Pitch.

Wordlessly, Pitch stared at the younger spirit with marked confusion and annoyance. The way Jack slightly staggered backward on the stairs did not go unnoticed by him.

"I was looking for you, why are you so hard to find in your own... house? You should really get a doorbell," Jack said, slurring slightly.

"Jack..." Pitch began, eyes narrowed, "are you drunk?"

The frost spirit just laughed, trying and failing to get a hold of himself as, suddenly, inexplicably, he was incredibly flustered. He was still stifling chuckles as he floated upward, lightly touching his hand to Pitch's chest and leaning forward. The Nightmare King recoiled, just a little, but did not pull away completely.

"I might be, just a little," Jack giggled, utterly oblivious to how uncomfortable he was making the other spirit.

Not to be mistaken, he and Jack had steadily gotten on good terms over a long stretch of time, so this whole visit was not totally uncalled for. It was not unusual for the other spirit to visit, or for he to visit Jack, but only recently had they actually gotten on friend terms. Pitch was never totally okay with physical contact when it came to  _anyone at all,_ and that had seemed to be an understanding between them ever since Jack had tried to hug him at least three times in the course of their friendship with awkward results at best.

"Listen," Jack began again, suddenly looking a little sullen. "I know you don't like Christmas but... I made you something anyway."

"Oh, Jack, you didn't have to," Pitch began with complete sincerity.

"I know, I know, but... it doesn't even have to be for Christmas, just know it's a gift, from me, your friend."

He floated backward just enough to start fussing with the shoulder bag he had at his hip. It took him a moment, but eventually he managed to open it up and reach inside. Next thing Pitch knew, held out in one hand was a Nightmare horse sculpture carved out of what looked like the purest ice. It was in the pose of rearing up, strands of ice coming off of its hindquarters just like the darkness and sand of a real Nightmare to connect to the wide base which held it all together.

Pitch accepted it, turning it over in his hands as he inspected the intricate level of detail. Of course it was not actually made out of ice- rather, it had to have been some type of glass.

"I wasn't going to tell you this but," Jack's voice fell into a whisper, "I got North to help me out on that. Getting the crystal, I mean... the carving was  _all_ me."

He looked incredibly pleased with himself. The Nightmare King merely glanced up at him before he continued inspecting the figurine, feeling the smoothness of every neat groove. The eyes were made from some blue, translucent type of rock, which shone brilliantly even under the vague amount of light in this place. He ran his finger over the stone, finding it stuck very firmly in place.

"Those are real cut sapphires," Jack pointed out.

Pitch was quiet for a few seconds more. Those seconds were agonizingly long for Jack, who was beginning to worry even through his drunken haze if this was actually a very bad idea. He'd had to have two entire mugs of North's bourbon laced eggnog just to get up the nerve to come here and give Pitch a Christmas present. Pathetic, he knew, but that wasn't about to stop him.

"I didn't know you were artistically inclined," Pitch said with some level of intrigue, glancing up.

"Oh, well, I-" Jack stammered, overly taken by the complement, "Anything for you, Pitch..."

He nearly fell backward in mid-air, proving the point that it was, indeed, possible to trip over yourself if you happened to be hovering off the ground, given enough alcohol. In reflex, Pitch reached out and caught the other spirit by the arm to keep him steady.

"How much did you drink?" the Nightmare King asked.

Jack was taken aback by that look of concern on Pitch's face. It just seemed so... sincere. He felt butterflies in his stomach, his face becoming even more flushed if that was possible. He had to avert his gaze.

"... A lot," he responded, "I don't really know."

Pitch was already leading him up the stairs and ultimately to the very same couch he had been lying in just moments prior. There was an ornate sort of side table sprouting up from the floor beside it, the underside flared with jagged obsidian spikes much like the underarms of the sofa. It was this that Pitch delicately set the Nightmare sculpture upon.

"Thank you, Jack," Pitch said, "I appreciate the thought."

He looked over at the other spirit, seeing that Jack was now draped over the couch and staring back at him with a heavy-lidded gaze. His expression quickly switched to surprise when he realized he was being stared back at.

"Would you like something in return?" Pitch asked after a moment, before quickly clarifying, "Not a Christmas present, a token of friendship."

Jack grinned in response, "I know," he laughed, "Um... I'm going to have to think on that..."

He acquired an intensely thoughtful look on his face as he leaned his head back.

"You know what?" he finally said, "You don't owe me anything..."

Pitch didn't respond, acquiring an inquisitive look.

"After everything that happened. I know I said I was sorry but..."

He sat up, hunched over slightly as he stared down at the floor, looking painfully weighed down by guilt.

"I should have come back for you sooner," he said, "I thought about you so many times, I pretended to be happy you were gone just like the other Guardians, but I wasn't. You deserved only a fraction of what you got that night, I was just... I wasn't thinking, and neither were they. They just wanted revenge and I thought I did too, but after seeing you like that and letting them do that to you, I felt like such a heartless bastard."

Still, Pitch did not interject. The surprise was obvious in his expression, maybe he was just in a mild state of shock.

"I tried to tell myself you deserved it, all of the abuse and pain but I couldn't get rid of the  _guilt._ Every time I thought of you, and remembered the look on your face just before you were..."

It sounded like Jack was about to start crying. That being the last thing Pitch wanted, he quickly joined the other spirit on the couch and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"There's no need for that," he soothed, "It's already over."

"No!" Jack shouted, clinging suddenly to the Nightmare King.

His hands closed on Pitch's black cloak, and he was actually momentarily distracted by how strange the material felt; light and warm, soft, silky gossamer under his hands.

"No," he said again, firmly, though he didn't at first remember what he was talking about.

Pitch stared down at him with mild concern.

"Well, maybe..." Jack rediscovered his train, "But your punishment is over, okay? I don't want to fight now... or ever  _again."_

He slid down slightly, nuzzling his head against Pitch's torso; not for any other reason other than he was suddenly tired. Nevertheless, he noticed immediately when he felt warm fingers sliding through his hair, gently stroking him, and he leaned his head up into the touch with a little hum of approval.

"Yes, Jack," Pitch humored him, knowing better than to try for any sort of sensible conversation.

"Yes..." the frost spirit mimicked in a quiet, sleepy tone.

Slowly, Pitch continued to pet him as if he were a cat curled upon his lap and not an entire person draped over it. Needless to say, Jack was asleep within seconds as could be told by his quiet snoring.

What could have been hours passed just like that. Pitch lost track of time as he leaned back comfortably, one hand laid lightly over Jack's head. Listening to the other spirit's steady breathing was incredibly soothing. For some reason, even with Jack not necessarily present, the boy's company was more than enough to keep that pesky depression at bay. He closed his eyes, falling into a light meditative state.

When he noticed the sun was starting to set, Pitch knew it was time to move. The main cavern of his palace was no place for a dreamer; the Fearlings would be on Jack like piranhas at a carcass the second they swirled up from the pit.

Jack did not stir when the Nightmare King stood up with him in his arms, and then teleported elsewhere in a rush of darkness. There were many, many rooms in this place, many beds to choose from, though most were riddled with dust and in a horrible state of ruin.

The least decrepit of these of course is what Pitch went for, and he carried Jack over to gently lay him down upon it. He was not expecting Jack to wake up in the process. Pitch was pulling away when the frost spirit's hands stopped him, grabbing onto his cloak and the other sliding to the back of his neck.

"Pitch..." Jack whispered.

It took the Nightmare King a moment to realize Jack was asking a question. In this darkness, it was impossible for the other spirit to see him clearly.

"Yes...?"

He was not expecting to be pulled down further, and, given Jack's lack of vision, awkwardly kissed; the other spirit finding the corner of his mouth with his own. Pitch was stunned, remaining utterly unresponsive even when Jack's fingers found their way into his hair, scraping his scalp as the frost spirit corrected his aim and kissed him fully with renewed vigor.

Pitch tried to pull away but Jack had him, and he lacked the will to fight. The next thing he knew, Jack had forced his tongue into his mouth. The frost spirit stroked it against his own, and Pitch gripped the blanket beneath Jack. He fought with the other tongue invading his mouth, at first trying to force it out, but rapidly it devolved into him coaxing the younger spirit on. A low moan rumbled in his throat and he leaned closer, his arm snaking around so his fingertips brushed through Jack's hair threatening to grip it.

In a tired haze, Jack was pretty sure he was dreaming. He'd had dreams like this before to be sure, but then again, never had they been so  _vivid._  Never did he actually _feel_ Pitch moan so sweetly into his own mouth as he kissed him, the sound more than enough to cause a familiar, tight heat to build between his legs.

Being a spirit, he wasn't constrained to human limits. He wasn't drunk anymore nor did he have a hangover after just three hours or so of sleeping it off. If anything, he was in a residual state of confusion, hardly able to recall coming to Pitch's lair or why he'd done so in the first place.

Needless to say, it only took him a few seconds to realize that this  _was_  far too real to be a dream. When Pitch pulled back again, Jack let him go. This was only because he was rapidly going into a state of pure panic, as in one nightmarish flash, he remembered everything.

 _'No, oh no...'_ his thoughts were suddenly frantic, lacking words.

He'd actually just  _kissed_ Pitch, for real. This wasn't some midnight fantasy in the privacy of his own mind. He was sure the Nightmare King was going to smite him right there. Or at the very least, kick him out. Their friendship was already rocky before, after this, there was no way it wouldn't be over  _completely._

"Jack..." Pitch said softly.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry," the frost spirit stammered in response.

Pitch would have backed off further if this wasn't the first time he'd ever tasted Jack's fear, strong and delicious on his tongue like a fine wine. Soothingly, he ran the backs of his fingers over the frost spirit's cheek.

"I take it you are no longer shitfaced?" he asked, smooth as ever.

Jack was momentarily taken aback.

"...Apology accepted..." he moved to leave.

"Wait!"

Jack had sat up and grabbed him by the wrist to stop him; now that he'd done it, however, he was rapidly starting to regret it.

"What's wrong, Jack?" Pitch asked with a hint of snark, "Would you like me to show you out?"

Shadows were already starting to crawl up the frost spirit's body, creeping over his legs and up his torso.

"No!" he cried out, before calming down, "No, I didn't mean... sorry, like...  _that."_

Pitch lofted a brow.

"I... it was... I meant it, is what I mean."

Jack's entire body felt a few degrees hotter than usual. He'd never been so simultaneously desperate and embarrassed in his entire life, and that was  _saying_ something.

"You meant what?" Pitch said.

With obvious chagrin, the frost spirit simply looked down. He couldn't bring himself to say it.

Pitch tore his hand free from the younger spirit's grip and grabbed him by the jaw to force him to meet his gaze once more. His eyes were like molten gold, cutting right through the darkness. In the gloom, Jack could just make out his sharp features, his expression stern and unyielding.

"Don't you toy with me, sprite," he growled, using a term he hadn't used in hundreds of years which only emphasized the hint of his reversion to blind brutality.

"What is it you're trying to do?"

Jack recoiled, tearing himself from Pitch's harsh grip. He was glaring at the other male with mirrored anger.

"Nothing!" he shouted, "I'm not  _trying_ to do anything."

There was a stinging pain at the right side of his face, along his jaw, and he realized that Pitch's claw had cut a ragged red line into his skin.

"Don't lie to me," Pitch said in a low, condescending tone, "Tell me what it is you want so we can get it over with."

The Nightmare King's words were simultaneously enraging and confusing. Had the kiss really angered him that badly? Apparently this guy had even  _more_  issues than Jack had at first thought.

"I want  _you!"_  Jack shouted in anger before he could second guess himself, "I've always wanted you!"

After that, there was absolute silence. Jack's words hung in the air between them like a heavy rope, frayed and taut with tension. Those short moments seemed to stretch on for an impossibly long amount of time; a sort of purgatory with suspended panic and rage just above the surface.

Pitch slowly grinned, an evil little chuckle crawling up his throat.

"Really?" he seemed totally amused.

"Well, I  _do_ still owe you something in return for that lovely sculpture you gave me."

Jack was utterly taken aback by this response.

"I'm not joking," he said, somewhat offended.

"I'm not either."

Pitch moved forward, smooth and light as a phantom even when he kneeled upon the bed before the other spirit. Jack sat back, looking up at the Nightmare King with some alarm.

"Come on, Jack," he coaxed, "Take what you want."

The frost spirit stared up at him for a short while, trying to discern whether or not this was false, if Pitch was just testing him somehow.

"...Really?" he didn't mean to sound so damn hopeful.

"Yes. I wouldn't offer myself to just anybody... make up your mind before I change mine."

At that little threat, Jack threw all caution to the wind and got up. His hands were trembling with nervousness as he laid them on Pitch's hips and he pressed his own body close.

The Nightmare King hissed an intake of breath when Jack nuzzled his face into his neck, but he covered it up with a little chuckle. Undeterred, Jack slowly slid his hands up toward Pitch's chest, where he cautiously wandered beneath his cloak.

He had expected Pitch's body to feel thin, had expected to feel ribs when he wandered up his chest, but that turned out to not be the case at all. Pitch was  _lithe,_  his muscles tight and compact but still very much there.

It wouldn't have made a difference either way. Jack's breathing deepened all the same as he slid his palm up from the groove of Pitch's hip all the way up to his clavicle. Veiled in darkness like this, Jack felt comfortable and hidden; falling into a sort of trance as he leaned up and started kissing the side of Pitch's neck. The Nightmare King was so incredibly warm, so deliciously hot against his skin.

Pitch sat back to give Jack better reach as his neck was attacked. His clawed hands traveled up the frost spirit's back, holding him close in a loving embrace as the younger spirit began nibbling, and then steadily progressed to licking and sucking. Pitch tilted his head to the side, a noticeable shudder of ecstasy wracking his entire body.

He couldn't even remember the last time anyone had touched him like this- the last time he'd  _let_  anyone close enough to do so. Ever since he'd tried and failed to rid himself of the last of his humanity, the loneliness had only grown into something huge and festering; something he refused to fully acknowledge most of times. He didn't want anyone to get too close because there was always a chance of losing them, always a chance of more pain. With Jack, however, he found his control had slipped too far to regain.

There was no taking it back now, because he didn't  _want_  to take it back; that alone was very, very bad.

But he simply didn't care anymore.

Slowly he let one hand fall to touch Jack's upper thigh, caressing him and then giving a light squeeze. Immediately Jack became aware of his arousal, because in response to that touch he was instantly at attention. He moaned softly against Pitch's neck, a breathless, wanton little sound. The Nightmare King's thumb brushed over his clothed erection in a motion that was accidental, causing him to twitch.

Of course Pitch noticed.

He cupped his hand against the frost spirit's arousal, gripping and rubbing it gently through the soft material of his trousers. In response, Jack slid both hands to Pitch's back in order to hold on to him, embracing him as he went to pieces from the attention. His vision wavered, he was writhing, bucking uncontrollably, panting and moaning aloud with every harsh exhale.

"Pitch..." he gasped, "Oh, God... Pitch..."

The Nightmare King bit back a groan; he couldn't believe how badly hearing his own name spoken like that turned him on. Then again, it was probably a mixture of that and Jack humping his hand while moaning so desperately into his ear. His free hand wandered up and he scraped his claws gently up the frost spirit's nape.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked, his tone low, calm as ever.

"I... I don't know," Jack responded helplessly.

The next thing he knew, he was shoved onto his back and Pitch was on top of him, kissing him hard. He did not even try to resist when the Nightmare King shoved his tongue into his mouth, the long appendage invading every inch, rubbing over his teeth and stroking the roof causing the frost spirit to arch and let out a soft cry.

Pitch felt like he was rapidly losing himself, losing control and losing his mind. He moved down from the kiss to begin biting Jack's neck, desperate and  _hungry._ It was all too easy to push the frost spirit's trousers down off his hips, pulling them down, down and then yanking them off entirely.

He ran both his hands up the younger spirit's legs, feeling the silky skin of his thighs as he neared the place he knew Jack was dying for him to touch. He wasn't expecting Jack to start reaching for him, tugging him closer so that he could kiss him again.

Pitch wasn't the only one losing his mind. Jack felt exactly like anyone who was living out their most thought about fantasy would feel. Ever since he first met Pitch he'd harbored a steadfast attraction, one he'd denied until their relationship blossomed into a delicate friendship. Even then the guilt remained raw, painful. The longer this went on the more it felt like a vivid reverie and nothing more. Never did he imagine Pitch would want him right back; or at the very least, humor him like this.

He was taken by surprise when the Nightmare King suddenly rolled onto his back, taking Jack with him and forcing the younger spirit to straddle him.

"Take, Jack," Pitch growled.

The frost spirit was momentarily confused, until Pitch grabbed his hand and placed it upon his navel. Just then, sharp clawed fingers raked through his hair and gripped it, causing a little spark of fear to ignite within him.

"I thought you wanted this?"

"I do-"

"Then touch me."

Pitch sounded so incredibly needy, starved for affection. He brought the frost spirit's head down to whisper into his ear.

"Do what you want with me."

Jack shuddered as a fresh wave of lust hit him without warning. The desire twisted with nervousness and fear, because now that he was in this position he realized with startling clarity he had no idea what to do. The most experience he had with sex in all his three hundred long years was watching mortals, and he hadn't exactly taken any notes.

He was trembling as he pressed both his hands against Pitch's pectoralis and slowly ran them down. The older spirit's chest was heaving under his touch as he panted. Jack's eyes had adjusted to the darkness just enough for him to be able to vaguely see the other male's supine form beneath him. His cloak was spread wide to completely reveal his lean torso, leaving only his lower half to the imagination, covered by those tight black trousers which hung low on his hips.

Jack would be lying if he said he was  _totally_  clueless; he had an idea, and he feared if he didn't go with it soon Pitch would grow too impatient with him and end this completely by just _leaving_  him there. It certainly seemed like something the Nightmare King would do.

With sensual slowness, the frost spirit ran his fingers over Pitch's prominent hip bones, and then trailed one hand down below the other male's navel. The hand still tangled within his snow white hair tensed, gripping harder at the same time Jack's eyes widened a little when he immediately came into contact with the long, firm bulge contained within the other male's pants.

For a moment, Jack forgot to breathe as he gently felt around Pitch's erection, squeezing and rubbing with such caution it was almost as if he were afraid to truly touch it. And he was. He was terrified but at the same time unbearably excited.

A hiss escaped Pitch's lips, the freezing cold of the frost spirit's touch crawling up his skin as the ice crystals fanned out from everywhere he dared to touch. The sensation was intense, delightful and refreshing as the frost melted at the mercy of his own body temperature and dripped down his sides.

 _"Jack..."_ Pitch sighed with adoration, tipping his head back.

The frost spirit turned his gaze up to Pitch's face, seeing his eyes closed and his head turned to the side; that long, slender neck exposed to his searching gaze. The Nightmare King's hand left his hair in favor of helping his other in sliding his own trousers down, and Jack's eyes went wide at the sight.

Once they were suitably removed, Pitch reached up and pulled the younger spirit down on top of himself by his hips, pressing their bodies flush together. Jack gasped at the searing heat of the Nightmare King's cock against his comparatively ice-cold skin. When Pitch gripped his ass with both hands and forced him to start grinding against his body, he was fully hard again.

Jack threw his head back and a loud moan tore itself from his throat. He gripped the bed beneath them, hardly aware of it when Pitch maneuvered him so that he was between his legs. Pitch's slender thighs pressed against his hips, urging him to keep rutting against him like Jack had started unconsciously doing.

Slowly, Pitch ran his hand down Jack's back with a low chuckle.

"Simmer down, Jack," he said, sounding a little breathless, "You're going to make a mess."

His face flushed with embarrassment and arousal, Jack stopped what he was doing and pulled back slightly. He wasn't expecting to feel Pitch's hand, hot and rough, wrap around his erection. Bright blue eyes looked with innocence and a question up at Pitch's face, where he saw the Nightmare King running his tongue over the fingers of his free hand, slow and with marked sensuality.

He replaced his other hand with this one, and Jack gasped softly at the slick feeling of Pitch's saliva being spread over his taut flesh.

"What...?" the frost spirit tried to ask, but his breath hitched.

 _"Shh,"_ Pitch hissed in response, gently tugging Jack closer.

The frost spirit's eyes went wide when Pitch guided his cock, lower, the tip nudging against the Nightmare King's ass.

"Come on," he coaxed, all but forcing the younger spirit forth as his thighs tensed around him.

Jack's breath caught in his throat, the highly sensitive tip of his erection suddenly breaching into a tight, scalding heat. He realized what was happening and his mind went totally blank; never in his wildest fantasies had he ever imagined doing anything like this. Instinct spurred him on, the red hot ecstasy forcing him to move, pressing in and shallowly humping until his hips were pressed flush against Pitch's body.

"Oh,  _yes..._ that's it," Pitch breathed, both his hands traveling slowly over Jack's sides.

The younger spirit's breathing rapidly became erratic, little moans and whimpers escaping him as he shallowly began fucking the Nightmare King with no real rhythm.

"Calm yourself, Jack..." Pitch ran his hands slowly down the frost spirit's back, whispering in his ear.

"Let me guide you."

He spread his legs to give Jack and himself some room, his hands sliding down to rest upon the younger spirit's hips. Thankfully, Jack turned out to be a quick study; he only needed to be showed once before he was rutting against Pitch with hard, deep strokes that had the Nightmare King seeing stars.

His hands fisted the blankets, claws tearing holes as his back arched.

"Just like that," he gasped, "Oh,  _God,_  Jack, just like that..."

Jack was utterly enthralled, unable to take his eyes off of the Nightmare King's slender, writhing body and his expression of painful ecstasy. Jack was panting, breathing shallow and hard as he continued pounding into the other male just like he wanted him to. It was difficult to see when his vision kept wavering, the way Pitch's muscles tensed and undulated around his cock enough to have him on edge already.

Pitch kept moaning his name, urging him to continue, harder and faster; Jack was unaware of how helpless his own little gasps and cries sounded as he complied. The Nightmare King's legs were wrapped about his waist once more, slender and firm, constantly threatening to tense up and arrest him every time he hit a sweet spot. They were probably the only thing keeping him from hitting his peak within seconds of starting.

It was hard telling how much time passed before Pitch really did capture Jack with his legs; keeping the frost spirit pressed all the way to the hilt inside himself as he started briskly pumping his own cock in his fist. He was gasping, high pitched little moans leaving him upon every exhale and suddenly, he threw his head back and  _shouted._

Jack, who had thus far been intently watching, had his breath hitch in his throat as all of a sudden Pitch's muscles clenched around him so tightly that at any other time it would have been painful, but as it was all he felt was unadulterated ecstasy. His vision failed him and he leaned down, a helpless series of moans leaving him as he couldn't stop himself from grinding against Pitch. The feeling of his muscles pulsing all around his hypersensitive flesh brought him to orgasm within seconds.

He could feel every twitch and pulse of his cock as he came deep inside the other spirit, the intensity of it causing his arms to shake as they threatened to collapse from under him.

"Ah... that's it..." Pitch said breathlessly, able to feel the comparatively cool fluid pooling deep inside himself as the younger spirit shuddered above him.

Unable to hold himself any longer, Jack fell on top of the other male, gasping and panting for breath. Pitch gave an amused little chuckle in response, resting a hand on Jack's back, rubbing him soothingly.

"... Thank you," the frost spirit said weakly.

 _"Anything_  for you, Jack..."


End file.
